


Stay

by Latteralpine8



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, also some Jitzu, kidnappedau, slight Jeongmi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2019-06-07 01:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15207371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latteralpine8/pseuds/Latteralpine8
Summary: Momo had no idea what she got herself into.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Featuring stockholm n lima syndrome
> 
> Unfortunately, not smutty
> 
> Kind of a sweet story if not twisted
> 
> Enjoy, I’m sorry if it’s too cheesy jsdhasjdhksdsd

It was the middle of the night.

 

Momo didn’t feel like answering the phone and neither did her body. There were aches in her shoulders that must have resulted in her awkward sleeping position, and the nerves in her legs felt jumbled. She twisted herself away from the vibration next to her, groaning while passing her hand through her hair. The calls did not cease and for a while, Momo really thought her brain would blow up before her phone did. Grumbling, she reached for the device and pressed the answer button.

 

“Momorin?” It was Mina—she recognized her from the softness of her voice.

 

“Yes?” Momo replied sleepily.

 

“Jeongyeon and I are on our way to your apartment. Just be ready alright?”

 

Momo frowned. “Wha—Why?”

 

“We need you to take care of something.” Mina simply stated, and the call ended just like that.

 

Momo threw her phone back onto the mattress after hanging up. She suddenly remembered that Mina and Jeongyeon were sent on a night mission, and whatever she was supposed to be prepared for must have some connection to that. She was still confused but also too tired to question it further. Slumping back onto her pillow, she closed her eyes and yawned. The drowsiness soon consumed her, and she snored soundly back to sleep.

 

Ten minutes later, the doorbell to her apartment rung. At first, she didn’t stir which only tempted the ringing to continue until she was fully awoken again. Stumbling out of bed, Momo stretched and dragged herself to the door. She unlocked the latch, then the door, then swung it open. Mina was there with Jeongyeon standing behind her. The latter seemed to be carrying something in her arms.

 

“We have a request.” Mina began, stepping inside with a hand on Momo’s arm. “Would you help us out, unnie?”

 

Momo simply nodded, unsure but the look on Mina’s face told her it was something important.

 

“Will you keep a hostage for us?”

 

The older fussed her eyebrows. “Is that the reason why Tzuyu sent you out in the middle of the night?”

 

“Yes. They’ll be searching for her soon, and your apartment is the farthest away from where we got her.”

 

Momo stared at her blankly, attempting to fully grasp the situation while dusting off her drowsiness at the same time. She glanced to Jeongyeon, and then at the girl they’d kidnapped in her arms along with a bundle of rope. She licked her lips, then motioned for Jeongyeon to come in quickly. The door closed with a soft click, and Jeongyeon laid the girl down on Momo’s couch while the rope goes on the dining table. Their hostage was sleeping, her forehead free from any blood stains, and Momo figured Mina and Jungyeon must have smothered her with sleeping gas.

 

“What about our headquarters?” Momo asked.

 

“That’s what Tzuyu suggested too, but it’s still too close. Besides, this is only temporary, and she might know too much when we let her go.”

 

“How long are we keeping her?”

 

“As long as needed until we have her father’s money.”

 

“And she is?”

 

“Minatozaki Sana.”

 

Momo let out an “ahh” and turned to the girl on the couch. Her father was a rich man, but that wouldn’t be the case if he hadn’t hired their mercenaries to claim power. His business grew large, but his gambling had drained most of his leftover funds to pay for those mercenaries he’d hired. He owed them two million and even promised to deliver it early, yet the money never came for about two weeks now. Tzuyu insisted they take more effective measures, which led them here.

 

“I’ll take care of her.” Momo turned to Mina who flashed her a smile.

 

“Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

 

“It’s fine. I’ll get some soon enough. She’s going to sit there nicely until all is settled.” Momo walked towards the door and the other two followed.

 

“Keep her alive but don’t do anything unless we call.” Mina reminded before heading out the door.

 

Momo nodded, relatched the door, checked the knob, and went back into her living room. She watched the hostage from afar, taking in her features with sleepy eyes. Mina and Jeongyeon had bounded her hands and feet with thick ropes, reddening the restricted skin underneath. A white cloth was tied across her mouth, and her belly rose and settled softly as she breathed. She was dressed in a simple red floral dress with a black leather side purse still hanging on her left side. Mina and Jeongyeon didn’t seem to have time to confiscate it, but it wasn’t likely she could use it anyway with the knots around her limbs. Momo’s eyes shifted to Sana’s face. She had to admit that the girl was quite fetching. She had a sharp nose, defined cheekbones, and light brown waves that hung down her face as she slept. She really did look like a rich man’s daughter, and she probably acted like one too. Maybe she was a bit dazed by the lack of sleep, because it took Momo a few minutes to peel her eyes off the hostage. When she finally did, she flicked off the lights and strolled back to her bedroom, making sure to leave the door open before flopping down onto her bed.

 

She was awoken three hours later by a loud thud that jolted her harder than she would have liked. Her eyes shot open, blinking before widening when she realized what could have made that sound. Momo hopped out of her bed, shook herself awake and speed walked to the living room. When she switched the lights on, a pair of brown eyes greeted her with its owner frozen on the floor. Momo furrowed her brows, stepping closer to the Minatozaki girl who flinched every time her feet hit the ground. Despite this, her eyes challenged Momo quite audaciously with a fierce glare. They were dangerously alert and shined with a tremendous amount of determination. Momo stopped a few inches away from her, kneeling down and hearing the girl’s breath stagger when they were at eye level.

 

“Make another sound and it’s going to be much worse.” She warned sternly before standing back up to pull a chair out from the dining table.

 

Sana watched her intensely, pupils dilated until her eyes were pitch black. The chair creaked along the floor until it stopped between the dining and living room. Momo turned around and bent over but before she could do anything, her hostage struggled as if she was already touching her. Irritated from the lack of sleep and the suddenness of this whole deal, Momo seized her arm with a scowl. Her eyes dared Sana to continue as her grip on her arm tightened. Her hostage winced but took the hint with a tint of fear clouding her brown orbs. Momo held her until she felt secure enough to loop her arms around the other girl’s waist, lifting her up, and tossing her onto the chair. Sana let out a muffled whimper when she landed on the cold hard surface, eyes never leaving Momo as she went to fetch the rope. The cord was coiled around Sana within seconds with Momo guiding it through every loop. Then, the looping stopped, and the rope was tied to constrict sturdily against Sana, further restraining her arms and legs. They stared at each other for nearly three minutes—the girl probably thinking of ways to get out while Momo studied her to find out what those ways were. Then, the lights were off again, and Momo yawned her way back to bed.

 

**~~~***~~~**

 

Surprisingly, Momo slept until the late morning without anymore interruptions. At first, she was a little afraid that the Sana girl might have escaped under her nose. It was oddly quiet when she woke up and judging by the looks she received last night, her hostage seemed cunning enough for her to be worried. She groaned quietly, removing herself out of bed while stretching her entire body under the hot rays of the morning sun. She squinted annoyingly at the open curtains but ignored it and walked straight to the living room. Sana, luckily, was still there on the dining chair. Her head was down, her eyes closed, and her limbs remained compressed in between the ropes. Momo watched as the sunlight made Sana’s hair glow in a shade of gold and sighed in relief. She walked quietly passed the hostage into the bathroom where she began freshening herself up.

 

Momo stared at herself in the mirror afterwards, a towel in her hands and her face damp from the water. Various thoughts circled through her mind as she stood there planning out her day. It was funny because she didn’t have a schedule to follow and probably never would. It was kind of like a privilege, she guessed, but didn’t think about it too much after that. She hung the towel back on its rack near the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Sana was awake now, observing her with dull carob eyes that had lost its fierceness to sleep. Momo saw her but kept her eyes forward as she pulled some bread out of the fridge. She took two slices out, tossed them into the toaster, then went back to dig for some jam. As soon as she placed the jar on the gray marbled counter, an agonizing creak made her grit her teeth before turning around.

 

Sana had managed to move the chair just a tad away from its original position. Her wide eyes stared at Momo anxiously, as if bracing themselves to witness an ugly consequence resulting from the action. But Momo said nothing, did nothing, and instead turned back to resume fixing herself some toast. The cool and easiness of her reaction was unexpected, almost unsettling if not intimidating. It was also incredibly odd because for a person with her type of lifestyle, a severe punishment would have been appropriate. But that, as Momo saw it, was a normal impulse for her underlings and not an elite gang member like her.

 

She’d served Tzuyu since her adolescent years when the gang was just made up of nine runaways including herself. They were criminals, but their bond had always been concrete, special, and formidable. Their little gang had grown over the years, but there was still a thick division between them and the rest. Everyone that wasn’t Tzuyu or her eight elites were considered henchmen—normal underlings that could never move up nor down. Aside from their long history together, Momo knew that part of the issue was trust. Tzuyu was a good leader and never a tyrant, but they all knew what she likes and what her pet peeves were. Their leader had a hard time with trust, especially if it came anywhere outside their little circle. Tzuyu also despised excessiveness or situations that she liked to deem as “too messy”. She only took extensive measures when she had to, never when she wanted to. Momo also agreed with the idea, although mostly because she was always too lazy to do anything more.

 

The toaster finished with a ding, sending the golden bread slices upwards. Momo walked to it, a plate in her hand but stopped abruptly when another creak sounded behind her. This one was longer, and Momo wasn’t surprised when she saw that Sana had shifted herself closer to the dining table.

 

“Another sound and I’ll place you under the windows so the sun can burn you alive.” Momo glared at the hostage, her tone deepened with enough venom to send Sana’s eyes down toward her own feet.

 

It wasn’t a bad threat, because today was very sunny, and Sana was already squinting from the sunlight hitting a fraction of her body through half-closed curtains. The toasts were set on the plate, then placed on the counter. Momo grabbed the jar of jam—strawberry to be exact—and gave it a twist. She probably wouldn’t even have this had it not been for Chaeyoung, who ran into her when she went shopping the other day. Momo was greeted with an “unnie!” followed by a list of random things that were on sale including strawberry jam. She didn’t question how the younger talked like she’d worked in the supermarket all her life, and instead heeded her recommendations of what was good to buy. Thinking about it made Momo’s lips curve into a faint smile as she stuck a knife into the jar.

 

She was interrupted again but not with the dining chair scratching across the floor. Sana’s stomach was growling and cut through the ominous silence between them. Momo didn’t allow herself to react or stop her hands from smearing the jam on the toasts. She felt Sana’s brown eyes watching her keenly from behind as she placed the jar back into the fridge. Momo didn’t plan on punishing her. Instead, she leaned against one of the counters and bit off a piece of toast. She watched Sana’s eyes dart away to avoid hers, observing the hostage’s bounded fingers as they curled in her palms to form fists. Sana was tense yet she sat tight, barely moving a muscle while listening to the crunching sound of Momo’s chewing. This wasn’t the first time they’d kidnapped someone, but it was certainly the first time only one of them watched over the hostage. Usually, they would leave the captive in a warehouse and take turns checking up on them. Unfortunately, the only warehouse they owned was burned down last month after it was discovered by an enemy gang. Tzuyu had been scouting for a new replacement ever since, and Momo had no idea what the status of her findings was. Perhaps they could build a new one when Mr. Minatozaki came to collect his daughter.

 

When she was halfway done with her toast, she heard Sana’s stomach growl a second time. Momo stopped chewing, and her hostage dropped her head down, eyes focused on her tied feet. The silence engulfed them once more, a hundred times more suffocating. Momo placed her half-eaten toast back on the plate, sensing Sana’s gaze returning towards her due to the shuffling. She picked up the plate and moved.

 

Sana was afraid. Momo could see it from her eyes, even through the glare she was putting up. Yet, she marched forward, watching Sana’s hands shake to the beat of her footsteps. Momo put the plate on the table, then pulled herself a chair and sat down next to Sana. Her hostage’s entire body tensed up—alert brown eyes still hadn’t let down their warning glare. Momo raised her hands to Sana’s cheeks who instinctively flinched, back pressing hard to the chair despite the fact that there was no contact. Momo froze until Sana realized that nothing was happening and looked at her again.

 

Only when their eyes locked did Momo speak, clearly yet firmly. “Make a single sound and I’ll let you starve, understand?”

 

There was an uneasy silence before Sana nodded, stiff and almost hesitant. Momo gulped and reached behind to untie the cloth around Sana’s mouth. She gripped the ends of the white fabric, slowly removing it from Sana’s face before setting it down on the table. They stared at each other some more, and Momo waited for a few seconds to ensure that Sana was  _ really _ going to stay quiet. Her cherry lips remained pressed, and Momo proceeded to grab the other uneaten piece of toast.

 

Sana was hungry, yet her attention was more focused on Momo than the food in front of her. It was obvious that neither of them trusted each other at that point. Sana’s empty stomach won at the end when she leaned over and bit into a corner of the bread. The taste must have encouraged her by some means, because Sana immediately dove forward for a second bite—more confident and desperate this time. The toast was completely devoured in less than a minute. Sana licked her lips after gulping down the last crumb, but Momo saw that some jam was still stuck on the side of her cheek. She probably didn’t mean to do it or even think of doing it, but Momo’s thumb somehow found itself swiping off the jam from Sana’s face, only realizing what she’d done when her hostage shook at the touch. Sana’s skin was softer than she expected, yet she pretended like nothing had happened and stood up.

 

“Don’t do anything.” Momo reminded before taking the plate to the sink, finishing her piece of toast as she went.

 

And again, it was the same unsettling obedience that had Momo more worried than she could admit. Sana didn’t do anything when she turned her back, as if trying to trick her into a false sense of security in order to seize the moment when Momo lost control of her. It bothered her, and at one point she hoped that the hostage would just do something already. Anything that would allow her to carry out one of her threats. Momo wanted to prove herself effective as a kidnapper, but at the same time there was no reason for her to do anything. Sana obeyed her, scarily so, and Momo wasn’t a sadist to be punishing her without a cause.

 

“C-can I get some water?” Sana asked—her voice raspy yet softer than Momo ever imagined it to be.

 

She turned around to face her hostage, mostly to kill time until she could decide what to do next. Sana only stared at her like she always had, eyes big and anticipating.

 

“I’ll stay quiet.” Sana assured. Her tone was way too genuine and convincing for Momo’s liking.

 

She nearly forgot that she had a choice, and that she could just refuse by silencing Sana with the cloth around her mouth again. Next thing she knew, she was pressing a cold glass of water against Sana’s lips as the hostage took big gulps until every drop was gone. Momo told herself to keep this cool demeanor to intimidate Sana like she’d been since the beginning. It was a harmless request anyway, and maybe Sana would be easier to deal with if—

 

“Can I use the bathroom?”

 

Momo blinked. She was standing in front of Sana again, about to place the cloth back around her mouth until she heard the soft voice. The tension between them resumed, and Momo really wanted to hit herself for not shutting Sana up sooner. Yet, her hostage’s legs were shaking—definitely not a very good sign. She couldn’t possibly just let Sana out like that, and a part of her was convinced that it was a trick. Momo’s hands tightened around the cloth, while she bit the inside of her lips. Out of the corner of her eyes, Sana winced. She really couldn’t risk it. She was about to head out for the day and wouldn’t want to come home mopping the floor. Keeping Sana here until night time without her bladder giving out at some point was also unrealistic. Sighing, Momo tossed the cloth back onto the dining table. She kneeled down to loosen the ropes around Sana’s hands and feet, making sure that she could move them around but not too much. If she tried running, she would most likely trip. Then again, Sana could easily remove all her restrains like this.

 

Momo inhaled sharply and told herself to make sure there was no way Sana could possibly overcome her. She stood up, untied the rope that she’d placed around Sana last night, and pulled the sitting girl up in one rather forceful motion. Momo stared into her eyes, worried but reminding herself to act calm. She shoved Sana forward, pointing a finger towards the plain white door of the bathroom. The girl moved, her footsteps shuffling due to the rope on her feet. Momo tailed her closely behind and sometimes out of sheer curiosity, Sana would turn back to look at her, eyes still wide and round as ever. They reached the bathroom, and Momo stepped ahead, resting her hand on the handle.

 

“You have ten seconds. I will count out loud.” Momo told her.

 

Sana entered, and Momo held the door behind her. She made sure not to close completely, leaving a small crack open just in case. More than anything, it was to make Sana nervous. So, Momo began counting out loud, breaking accordingly in between. She reached six when she heard the sink faucet turn on, then at eight Sana knocked to let her know she was done. She could have just waited until ten.

 

Momo opened the door for her. Sana stepped out, expecting that they were walking back like before and went ahead, but Momo grabbed her wrist.

 

“Stand there.” Momo pointed to a corner.

 

Sana looked at the space, then at her captor. Her feet shuffled against the wooden flooring to the spot, looking down the entire way. When Sana was settled where Momo wanted her to be, she walked back to fetch the chair along with the white cloth and the fallen string of rope.

 

“Move over.” Her captor instructed Sana obeyed. She watched as Momo placed the chair down in the corner. “Sit.”

 

Once Sana was back on the dining chair, her hands and feet were tied as they were before. Momo wrapped the third rope around her, looped it, then secured it in until she heard a yelp from her hostage. Maybe, it was a little too secure. Momo loosened the rope to allow Sana some space to breathe.

 

“Good?” Momo began forming the knot.

 

Sana jolted slightly due to the suddenness of the question and its intention. Nevertheless, she nodded, slow and skeptically. Momo wrapped the white cloth around Sana’s mouth before standing up. She went a few feet across from the hostage to make sure the windows were locked and pulled the blinds down to cover them.

 

“I’ll be back at night.” Momo announced, heading into her bedroom after feeling secured about the house.

 

She changed into a plain blue t-shirt and some jeans, then threw on her jacket. She reached for her phone at the bedside table along with her keys, stuffing them in the pockets of her jacket while looking around to see if she’d missed anything. With a quick nod to herself, Momo moved to the narrow hallway leading towards the front door. She turned around to catch Sana’s eyes before she left, satisfied that they were still alert and attentive as ever.


	2. Chapter 2

The city was loud and energetic with life as always. Construction sites rang with the yelling of workers and heavy machines. There was the clattering of all kinds of shoes on the concrete pavement as people walked. Momo was one of these people, but less happy, less busy, and less motivated. Not that she didn’t love working for the gang and Tzuyu, or anything close to the sort. As one of the elites, her life was more leisure than work. The underlings carried out most of the everyday tasks, leaving the nine top dogs plenty of time to relax. They did have meetings, of course. But the meetings were concise and short, mainly because of their leader’s strong distaste for excessities. The only time they’d ever deliberately risked their lives was during a final showdown that signaled the end of a very long gang war. The battle was bloody, and a few of them did come out with injuries, but it was nothing too drastic.

 

Momo shoved her hands into her pockets and listened to the beeping of car horns on the street. She stopped to wait for a red light, tucking into her jacket as a harsh breeze of wind swept by. She began walking when the lights switched, eyes glued to the gray dull crosswalk. Momo went forth for a few yards, turning a corner when the streets opened up again. Then, she stopped in front of a dark stone building. “The Temptation”, the sharp engravings on the top of the front door read. Momo pushed the heavy metal door opened, wincing at the way it creaked. She entered the rather quiet club, stripped of its usual loud atmosphere and music.

 

“Momorin.” Mina greeted her, a glass of whiskey glistered in her hand.

 

The older only nodded before taking a seat on the empty stool beside her. Mina lifted an eyebrow. Momo waved for the bartender and ordered a margarita. Mina took another sip of her drink.

 

“How is she?” The younger asked when Momo’s eyes glazed blankly over the glass case of liquors behind the bar.

 

“Pretty good.” The older replied, studying a particularly tall blue bottle of bourbon.

 

“I didn’t think she would cause _you_ trouble.”

 

There was obvious amusement in the delicate way Mina’s lips curved up in a smirk. Momo took it as a compliment but refused to further entertain the conversation. A silent minute passed between them. The bartender placed the ordered margarita in front of Momo. The older looked at the drink, then at the random blue lines in the white marbling of the bar. She hoisted the glass to her lips and took a small sip. The liquid danced around her tongue, and she continued observing the different brands on the encased liquor bottles. The silence densed and tightened, expectedly enough because being friends for at least half a decade, Mina knew she wasn’t always this quiet. Maybe she wasn’t the most talkative person around—like say Nayeon—but normal Momo definitely would have asked her small questions either about today or yesterday. Something had caught her tongue, and Mina was more than determined to figure out what.

 

“Did you slip on the sidewalk again?” The younger asked with a teasing grin.

 

“No.” Momo answered, mustering all the cells in her body to crack a smile.

 

“A quiet you is a dangerous you.”

 

“Dangerous?” Momo snickered.

 

“Dangerous indeed.” Mina hummed. “You look like you’re planning a total takeover.”

 

“I wouldn’t dare.”

 

“Honestly?”

 

“Honestly.”

 

“You would have a billion worth of wealth, a big house, a big gang, and an entire city that’s about to succumb inside your palms.”

 

“ _You_ sound like you’ve been planning this yourself for quite a while.”

 

“Oh, _but I wouldn’t dare_.” Mina rolled her eyes.

 

Momo let out a genuine laugh. “Keep your head intact, we have a meeting today.”

 

They continued chatting about the possibility of Tzuyu accidentally walking in right now, and how horrible it would be for both of their fates. The topic ended with chuckling, because they both knew too well that the leader would have cared less. These silly things about mutiny were never anything but innocent jokes between the elites. If they were _that_ ambitious they would have done it a long time ago. But Tzuyu trusted them and they trusted her, so that foundation remained equally sacred in everyone’s minds.

 

“Are you feeling alright today?” Mina finally spilled the daunting question after they’d finished a hilarious conversation about limes. It sprouted from Momo randomly picking at the slice of green citrus lodged in the brim of her margarita.

 

“Yeah, I’m ok.” The older nodded, much more relaxed and casual now.

 

Mina grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but return a smile. Momo personally didn’t understand why she felt so taciturn earlier. Work had been light as usual, and there was absolutely nothing, _nothing_ she needed to dwell over. She also hadn’t run into anything worthy of silencing her willingness to socialize on the way here. It must have been a morning daze or something, but that too was odd, because it was pretty close to noon now. The most recent event she could think of was her morning with Sana. Her morning with a mere hostage. She didn’t understand the interest in it, but also couldn’t deny how it picked and poked at the back of her mind. Her interactions with Sana _were_ very interesting. The _girl_ was very interesting. In the heat of her current train of thought, Momo allowed herself to wonder what Sana might be doing right now. What would she _attempt_ to do? Would she stay still as told? Would she frantically try to seize Momo’s absence and lead herself to freedom? Maybe, she gave up and cried. Maybe, she was still hungry. And maybe she—but no. Momo shouldn’t be bothered caring about things like this. She really, really, _shouldn’t_. This was stupid of her.

 

About half an hour later, Momo and Mina relocated themselves downstairs. The club had an underground level—a big basement to be frank—that served as the official meeting place and headquarter for the gang’s elites. The underlings only ever went down to deliver some quick news, because to stay too long would demonstrate a suspicious intention and that never sat well with Tzuyu. If anything, the elites rarely spoke to their henchmen at all. Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo being the exception due to their roles as the secondary management team. They were expected to maintain discipline and keep track of the underlings’ daily tasks. Those three had the busiest jobs among all, but it was nothing anyone of them couldn’t handle. If there were any technological issues, Dahyun would take care of it. She also was granted a small unit of skilled hackers to oversee. Chaeyoung, Momo, and Mina were more of the miscellaneous bunch compared to everyone else. Because they didn’t have a designated job, they were expected to offer help anytime and in anyway necessary. It gave them a bit more free time but also landed them in fairly interesting situations—like having a millionaire’s daughter tied up on a chair in your living room. Yep, all in a day’s work.

 

Momo sat on the left side of the glass table. It was a semicircle. Tzuyu’s tall black leather chair rested at its flat end while the elites sat around the curve end. The meeting should start soon, but the leader wasn’t here yet—Chaeyoung said something about heavy traffic. The elites simply lounged about for half an hour, chatting and occasionally staring at each other. Momo propped her head up with one arm. Dahyun spun her chair in a slow circle. Chaeyoung scrolled through her phone with a focused expression. Nayeon slurped her iced coffee. Jihyo scribbled something on her thick notepad, because geez was she competent. And across from Momo, Mina placed her head on one of Jeongyeon’s shoulders as the older typed rapidly into her laptop. Momo didn’t care much about PDA—she _wouldn’t_ have cared at all—but Mina just happened to catch her watching gaze and decided to nuzzle Jeongyeon’s cheek with her nose. Jeongyeon tilted her head closer until she was near enough to peck Mina on the forehead. Momo pretended to gag from afar. She mouthed a “gross”, and the couple only chuckled.

 

Tzuyu finally entered with a swift swing of the door, and everything immediately died down within the room. She sauntered to her reserved seat, spotless and waiting. The elites watched her. They observed the way her heels clattered as she walked, sharp and pounding into the pavement like her undefying authority over the entire room. She sat neatly down on the chair, crossing long legs as she picked a peck of lint off her skirt. They knew each other long enough to be casual, but every meeting always began with the eight elites subconsciously admiring the power and grace of their beloved leader. Tzuyu plainly reached up to fix the collar of her blazer, and that alone displayed the quiet elegant nature of her demeanor. Under the golden light that seeped from the half-blinded window, Tzuyu seemed more than just the eldest and their leader.

 

The meeting went well, or at least well enough for it to go very smoothly. Like usual, Tzuyu didn’t talk much but was listening intently to everything anyone of them had to offer. This, like many others, was her most preferred style of conducting meetings. She would rather listen to observe, scrutinize almost, the personal knowledge of each elite. She knew most of the information they were reporting back to her, oh definitely. Her goal, however, was to make sure that no reports differed from another, and that everyone’s overall knowledge should be on the same level. And by doing this for so many years now, they came to understand her intentions under these weekly meetings. Like her general approach to most things, it was secretive, discreet, and subtle. It was kind of hard not to know because Tzuyu wasn’t very difficult to read. She was, however, very difficult to notice.

 

The elites soon dispersed one by one after the meeting ended. Nayeon went to the next room to retrieve some documents. Dahyun and Chaeyoung went upstairs to play some pool. Jeongyeon and Mina went out for lunch. Momo left too but didn’t really have a plan of what she wanted to do for the rest of the day. The only person that remained at the meeting room was Jihyo, apparently to check in some minor details with their leader. Everyone knew it was more than just that. Tzuyu and Jihyo’s relationship had been quite secretive over the years, but the occasional side glances they gave each other were unmissable. It had never been more obvious to Momo until she heard the meeting room door close and click upon her exit.

 

Momo headed upstairs with her hands tucked inside her jean pockets. She entered the now crowded club, wincing as her ears were assaulted by the volume of the music. People were gathered in clusters from the bar to the dance floor, drinking, laughing, and kissing. In a corner of her eyes, she saw Dahyun and Chaeyoung at a corner where two pool tables were stationed. They were super focused, more on each other than the colorful balls that rolled around the emerald green table. Momo would join them, but she didn’t feel like it. Instead, she sauntered back to the bar where the bartender quirked an eyebrow at her. She took a seat—the same from this morning—and sat down. The bartender kept his eyes on her despite busying himself with making the other people’s drinks. Momo stayed there for about two minutes, simply studying the lines on her palms in silence. She didn’t come here for a drink. She just came here for a place to sit. Well yeah, there were a lot of comfy sofas scattered around the place, but she rathered not. She wanted alone time, and she knew for sure that someone was going to approach her sooner or later if she sat there long enough. So, she resorted to the bar where people came just for drinks. Sometimes they sat down to banter, but always with a well-known companion. Still, Momo couldn’t just sit there and stare at her hands. She needed to have a reason, and she hated it. She hated the ways of the world, and everything needed a purpose. She also hated how her mood was slipping down like an icy slope, and she was more than unable to drag it back up. That wasn’t even the worst part, because she had absolutely no clue why she felt out of it today. She literally had no reason not to relax. Perhaps, she should convince herself to start relaxing. Perhaps, she should order something before the bartender looks at her again.

 

“Tequila.” She mumbled but even amidst the music, he seemed to have heard her.

 

Momo wondered if he was good at reading lips or just psychic. It didn’t matter. She did what she had to, and he seemed more than happy to rumble through one of the counters again. Now Momo could stare off into space in peace.

 

When the drink came to her, she made sure to take her time with it through small sips. In the meantime, she continued to eavesdrop on a conversation to her right. Now, she wasn’t a nosy person, but it wasn’t like the two people chatting were keeping it down either. They were half-screaming, and Momo didn’t understand how they couldn’t hear each other when she could from two seats away. They were ranting heatedly about an unfair promotion, and Momo could care less but she had no other way of distracting herself. She should do something, or at least figure out what she needed to do. She didn’t get far in planning when someone tapped her in the back. She swung around and looked down immediately at the little business card in Nayeon’s hand. The older nudged it at her.

 

“A small party of underlings is there already. Just go and make sure everything goes smoothly. This is one of our new dealers, and I just need you to monitor the trade.” Nayeon informed her.

 

Momo took the card, glanced at it, and tucked it in the pocket of her jacket. The address on the card was another bar not too far from here.

 

“Don’t act too rough but be firm.” Nayeon reminded when Momo gulped down the last of her drink. “Call me when you’re done.”

 

The younger nodded. She slipped off the bar stool, glancing back at the bartender and quickly pulled down her right sleeve. A tattoo of a carnation was flashed across her wrist. The bartender nodded slightly in her direction before removing her empty glass. She didn’t really need to show him that. He’d worked here long enough—she _knew_ he worked here long enough. All the elites were granted the privilege of free drinks and being their bartender for roughly three years, he had to recognize all of them. Everyone in the gang received a carnation tattoo, but only the elites had them on either wrist. It wasn’t a hard thing to spot, especially in the summer. But Momo simply felt the need show him for whatever reason, she didn’t really know. In fact, she didn’t really know a lot of things, and she was kind of fed up with trying to figure out why. Tucking her hands back into her jeans, she opened the creaky doors again and left the club.

 

**~~~***~~~**

 

There was absolutely nothing remotely _fun_ about these types of mission. All it did was give her a mild headache, and she would have just threatened their new dealer right there if she could. But no, she had to have _some_ patience even though her moodiness from this morning had depleted every ounce of it. It wasn’t like their dealer wasn’t cooperating. He was just downright annoying. He talked too much and took at least three centuries to get them what they asked for. In the end, it all went very well, mostly because Momo was glaring at him the entire time. It seemed like he wasn’t _that_ dull after all. At least he knew how to run when his life depended on it.

 

Momo saw the gray bricks of her apartment building ahead and crossed the street. The light was still green, but it didn’t matter. There were no cars. The city settled down late in the evening. The presence of people was replaced with a dim orange luminescence from the streetlights. Few cars drove around except in the busier parts of the city. Momo didn’t live in that area. She didn’t live in a big house either. Not like Tzuyu with her grand chateau in the outskirts of the city. No, none of the elites did. They were only there on random occasions when the leader decided to throw parties, or during Christmas time. Momo didn’t think it was too bad. She didn’t live in a terrible place, but she couldn’t call it a good place either. It was a decent dwelling with enough rooms to live and thrive. Most importantly, she didn’t have to pay for anything. Tzuyu, being the considerate leader that she was, took care of that for all of them. Rent, water, electric—everything. It was kind of scary to think about it, really. They all knew she had a lot of money but to have _this_ much? It was funny to think that she was just a scrawny leader of some eight teenagers once upon a time. She must have threatened one of the landlords or something. Besides Mina was right, she did have this city in the palms of her hands.

 

Momo entered the building and headed right for the stairs. There was an elevator but she lived on the second floor, so there was never any need. The grocery bags in her hands rustled as she climbed the steps. Despite the pounding in her head, she managed to stop by the local supermarket on the way home. At least dinner wouldn’t be a pain.

 

The fear of whatever Sana might be up to rushed back to her head when Momo walked towards her front door. It couldn’t be _that bad._ She needed to fear the worst, but she was sure to secure Sana in the best way possible before she left. Then again, she had been very sympathetic with the ropes and had loosened it by a bit. If Sana took advantage of it, she really couldn’t do anything else. It was too late to search for her. The best thing to do was to notify Tzuyu immediately. Perhaps Dahyun could track her down or something. She didn’t know. She was too tired to know. She just wanted some dinner for God’s sake.

 

Momo twisted her key, and the door unlocked with a click. She gripped the cold knob, heaving some extra air before entering the apartment. The lights from the hallway seeped into the room and judging from the things she could see, everything seemed fine. She hauled the groceries inside, then closed the door behind her. The click echoed through the silence of the apartment. There was no noise. In the quiet seconds that she felt around the wall for the light switch, Momo strained her ears to hear something. But she heard nothing—nothing but the foreboding silence. She wondered if no noise meant no Sana. Her breathing couldn’t be _that_ silent. Then again, Momo wouldn’t really know unless she cleared away this blackness that stood between her and her daunting fate.

 

Momo turned the switch on. The room quickly came to visibility as the light reached every corner of the confinement. Momo swallowed more air. There was a figure laying still on her floor. Apparently, Sana had tipped the chair over, landing it on its back which also meant that she, herself, was on her back. She must have attempted something, or had an intention to until she realized that it was hopeless. Nevertheless, Momo was glad that she was still fully inside the apartment. With a heavy load off her chest, Momo grabbed the bags and dropped them next to a kitchen counter. She took a quick glance at the hostage on the floor, watching as the girl’s eyes blinked and then opened. Sana squinted at the bright lights above, but the realization that there was light rammed into her only a few seconds later. Despite her position on the floor, she still searched. Her eyes scanned from one location of the room to another. Then, she saw Momo. Simply standing there in the middle of the kitchen and in the same clothes that she wore before she left. Nothing seemed to change. Well, maybe except for the awkward sideways angle that Sana saw her in. But yes, here they were again, exactly where they’d left off in the morning. And like always, there was a tremendous amount of tension. It filled the spaces between them like thick cobwebs, piling up in the corners of the walls until it covered one of them completely. Someone was going to break out of it first. But not right now, no. Not when Sana laid there with full anticipation of her reaction.

 

Not when she had quite a lot of decisions to make.


	3. Chapter 3

Everything was so  _ damn _ suffocating.

 

Momo felt her power slipping away even though nothing had happened since the last half hour. She decided not to do anything about the flipped chair but maintained a glare as a warning. She moved the chair closer to the dining table, and her hunger drove her instantly to the kitchen. Sana was now sitting behind her, watching keenly as she turned on the stove. When the pot was settled under the flames and Momo made sure she didn’t forget any ingredients, she began untying Sana. She escorted the hostage to the bathroom and did the counting. Momo heard the bubbling from the boiling pot when Sana got out, and she hurried to rebound the hostage back to her chair. After that, dinner occupied nearly all of her mind. She shuffled around the kitchen as if Sana wasn’t even there, unconcerned about everything but her growling stomach. Her mood had been sour the entire day, and only a good decent meal could lift it up by a notch or two. Food was food after all. Momo hummed softly as she dropped the fish into the awaiting hot pan. The sizzling was more than comforting to her ears, and her stomach had to comply that it was indeed delightful.

 

The meal was complete when Momo finished setting the food on the oak dining table with an unconscious smile. She had been a rookie cook for a long time—mainly, under Chaeyoung’s guiding hand—and it was rare that she ever felt  _ this _ satisfied about her creation. Perhaps, it was her hunger that was taking over. In the midst of her pride, she could sense Sana’s eyes boring a crater into her back. The hostage’s gaze had been following her around afterall. Momo spun around, making sure to hide her smile behind a solemn face as she moved to free the hostage a second time. Sana continued staring, but it wasn’t the same strong intimidating look she wore during their first night together. If anything, it had softened to a great degree and seemed ever more intrigued than hostile. It was almost like Sana was studying her and although Momo didn’t feel very comfortable thinking about that, she composed herself when Sana stood up. Oh, Momo knew what she was up to, or at least what she  _ could _ be up to. Sana had been watching, listening, and probably trying to come up with a plan for escape. Sana wasn’t stupid. Momo knew because she didn’t look stupid.

 

Momo moved the chair that Sana was tied up in back to its proper position at the dining table. She pointed to the seat and sat across from the hostage who was incredibly stiff. Sana sat rather rigidly, round alert eyes glancing around the steaming food around her and then to the small bowl in front of her. In it was a bit of rice and a few pieces of fish. It wasn’t much, but she shouldn’t—couldn’t—expect much in the first place. This was considered hospitality. Momo was already digging in when Sana reached out a shaky hand to grasp her spoon. The tension was back, thickening every time the hostage shoved another spoonful of food into her mouth. She ate silently but eagerly. At some point, she smiled meekly. Momo was caught a bit off guard but didn’t say anything and simply blinked at her. Sana seemed to be unaware of her own action because her eyes widened instantly when she felt Momo’s questioning gaze. She was embarrassed, but there was a hint of fear dwelling deep within those caramel eyes.

 

Sana swallowed another mouthful and cleared her throat. “I-it’s really good.”

 

Momo froze. Her voice was small and barely audible, but the awaiting silence between them allowed every word to slip effortlessly into the captor’s ears. Sana eyed her uneasily, fidgeting in her seat as her hand trembled again. Momo thought it was better if she, again, stayed quiet. What would she say back anyway? The random compliment was completely unexpected. And although Momo tried to focus on eating, it managed to cross her mind several times. She couldn’t just ignore it like that. But then again, it would be very awkward if she replied. They had enough of the dense atmosphere that it would be almost lethal to add more fuel to the fire. Momo swallowed hard, unable to even watch Sana anymore and allowed only a corner of her eyes to be exposed to the girl across from her. Why did Sana even say that in the first place? What was her motive? Honestly, she was the most confusing hostage Momo had ever encountered, yet she had barely done anything besides just sitting there and staring. While Momo fumbled her mind about what had happened, Sana quickly cleared the bowl. When there was nothing left, she balancing her spoon on the brim and licked her lips. Sana sat still, but her fingers were slightly bent near the tip. It seemed that she felt the suspicion.

 

Momo had a sudden impulse to pull something equally daring. “Do you want more?”

 

Her voice was just a bit lower than usual, echoing in the quiet space of the apartment and definitely resonating in Sana’s ears. The hostage looked more startled than surprise, but she eagerly nodded nonetheless. Momo stood up, took her bowl, and went over to the stove. There was still some miso soup left. It was still hot, and she filled the bowl near the brim. Momo made sure to take her time so that Sana had a chance to try and bolt towards the front door. At least, that was what she’d planned and expected. Momo somehow  _ wished _ the hostage would, because the exit was just there, waiting and this might be the only good chance she would ever get. Sana could just quickly unlock the door and leave,  _ but she didn’t _ . Instead, she remained there with glossy eyes, watching everything from the steam coming off the bowl to Momo’s expressionless face. Momo lowered the food down for her, seriously a little disappointed. Maybe, she was hungry too. It took Sana about ten seconds of gawking at the soup in front of her before reluctantly dipping her spoon into the content.

 

“The tofu pieces are quite big.” Sana chuckled softly, and it sounded more like another odd compliment than a criticism.

 

Again, words stacked in Momo’s throat, and she couldn’t filter through them to find the right response. The hostage was just so  _ weird _ . Her opinion of Sana had always been something in between. Keeping a millionaire’s daughter locked in her apartment was a burden, but she didn’t  _ hate _ Sana. Momo only knew her as a complete stranger and took this as just a normal part of her job. Besides, it wasn’t even  _ her _ desire to kidnap Sana. She didn’t even partake in the whole capturing thing to begin with. Momo also never had an urge to abuse her power unless she had to because she would gain nothing from it. She was a member of a gang, yes, but she didn’t take pleasure in hurting others. In fact, she never found pleasure in a lot of things in life. Even things that were  _ meant _ to be indulged in—things like drugs, sex, and alcohol. Momo had been exposed to all of that, of course, because how could she not be? She had tried everything but still hated the loss of control with drugs, genuinely bored of the taste of alcohol, and frequently annoyed with the brief satisfaction of a late night hookup. Sometimes she lingered a little longer at Nayeon’s place just to be comforted by the older’s warm embrace, but she knew it never lasted long. Nayeon would hold and cuddle her but soon enough, Momo would then be left with a small kiss as the older got dressed and went out the door. She used to think she’d loved Nayeon for a time, but the feelings quickly faded when she began imagining what it would be like if they were officially together. Not that there was anything wrong with Nayeon because Momo admired her a lot, but it just didn’t make her feel  _ satisfied _ . That was her problem.

 

Sana was a lot different than what she’d expected normal rich children to be. For one, she was  _ walking _ late at night when Mina and Jeongyeon captured her. Momo knew because it would have been a lot harder if she had a personal driver, and Mina would complain about it since the start. Sana also seemed unreasonably calm during their first night together, and the fact that she’d boldly  _ dared _ to speak to Momo was unsettling. It was almost as if Sana knew something that she wasn’t supposed to know. It made Momo a little queasy that Sana hadn’t done  _ anything _ despite having countless opportunities to do a lot of things.

 

“What did he do this time to upset you?” Sana abruptly said between slurps, and Momo narrowed her eyes.

 

She  _ definitely _ knew something about her father’s involvement. Maybe not  _ everything _ , but there was an obvious layer of smooth confidence in her voice that gave the knowing impression. Momo began debating again whether to respond or not. If she ignored it, Sana might take it that she was intimidated. She needed to suck up the confusion and keep her cool to show that she still had the upper hand around here.

 

“He didn’t upset  _ me  _ personally.” Momo replied nonchalantly. “But he—”

 

“He owed you money.” Sana finished it for her. The captor stared hard at her.

 

“He does.” Momo nodded.

 

It was scary how Sana hummed like she knew the entire story from start to finish. She seemed different from before, and Momo didn’t like it one bit. Sana propped an arm on the table, posture relaxing completely as she finished the bowl of soup. Momo tensed up when Sana balanced the spoon delicately on the brim of the bowl.

 

“I’ve never had a kidnapper fed me before.” Sana laughed rather dryly.

 

“If the money isn’t here in two days, it’s going to get much worse.”

 

Sana blinked. Momo  _ had _ to cut her off somehow. The hostage couldn’t get too comfortable and start thinking that this was going to be a routine. It wasn’t. Soon enough, Momo would receive orders to do _ anything _ and  _ everything  _ that could speed up the process. Time was ticking. Sana ought to know that Momo’s subtle acts of kindness would shortly come to an end.

 

“You know, I have nothing to do with whether or not the money will come.” Sana rested her chin on a hand.

 

“We’ll see.” Momo shrugged indifferently. It was supposed to be a threat, but the hostage seemed unmoved.

 

“You people really have no idea.” Sana shook her head. “He  _ doesn’t _ care about me.”

 

She nearly whispered it, and Momo realized that  _ she _ was the one being threatened. Sana’s eyes were certainly daring her, but there was a sense of truth in them that Momo couldn’t deny. Momo’s hand clenched tightly around her spoon. She wasn’t afraid of Sana. She had no reason to be. Sana was in  _ her  _ house, under  _ her  _ supervision, and that power had been granted to her ever since the hostage was thrown on her couch. If Sana ever tried to fight back, they both knew what the consequences would be. Momo’s job revolved around her ability to utilize her strength. Sana would never win or stand a chance. Even if she tried to outsmart Momo, the apartment was too small and spare for her to pull off anything impressive. Momo had nothing to fear except her own judgment. She was scared of herself. She knew where her duties laid but had no idea how she was going to carry them out. Sana was different, and she should be dealt with caution.

 

“You’ll have more luck burning down his headquarters than kidnapping me.” Sana looked down and fiddled with her fingers. It was obvious that she didn’t care about him either.

 

After dinner, Momo collected the dishes and tied Sana back on the chair. She didn’t bother muting the hostage with the cloth, mainly because Sana didn’t look like she wanted to say anything else after all that. She spent the half-hour staring at her constricted hands while Momo washed the bowls and plates. Sometimes, the captor would turn around to check on her, and nothing would change except the slight way Sana’s head tilted.

 

“You know, there is something you can do to try and get out.” Momo poured herself a glass of water—carbonated, of course—and leaned against the sink. Sana narrowed her eyes. “I can call him, and you can help speed up the progress.”

 

Such an offer was foreign to Momo’s usual conduct of things. She rarely really had the patience to give anyone a second chance. It wasn’t that she was merciless. She simply learned to bury natural human compassion with the consequences that would haunt her if she ever dared to do anything against the expected. She still had a dignity for her work, despite it not being the most righteous profession in the world. But it was different with Sana, always had been ever since the hostage entered her home. It was not that she felt bad or anything of the sort. Momo just really _ really  _ wanted to get rid of her.

 

Sana began to chuckle—dry, apathetic, mockingly. The laughter ended just as abruptly as it had begun. Sana lifted her eyes up to meet Momo’s, a solemn and rather grim expression cast over her face. “I’m not going to fucking beg that  _ bastard _ .”

 

Sana spat out every vowel with a delicate glaze of rancor. Momo couldn’t help widening her eyes just a little to express her genuine surprise but covertly enough that the hostage wouldn’t notice from that far away. Now, this was something quite rare. Momo was familiar by experience that nearly all the wealthy children that they’d kidnapped showed some level of desperation to seek help from their parents. A few tried to act tough for a while until the phone calls began. Then, they were either wailing or whispering in a very low defeated tone. Sana, from what Momo could conclude so far, had a rough relation with her father. It was interesting because Momo had seen many wealthy offsprings at least fake affection to secure their gains on the will. It was Sana’s candidness and strange boldness that made her nervous even though she was never supposed to care in the first place.

 

“Then, I’m going to have to make you.” Momo turned back to the sink to wash the glass.

 

Sana didn’t reply but shot Momo a hard glare when she came around to double-check the ropes. The white cloth was wrapped around Sana’s mouth again, and Momo decided to tug the ends just a tad harder after tying the knot. The sudden force made Sana sniff in hard. It was a silent reminder of control. She felt it. She surely got the message, but it wasn’t like there was ever a point where she didn’t. If anything, it was Momo—not the observant hostage—who needed the reminding gesture the most. Momo left Sana in the dark living room and proceeded to her bedroom, muscles weary and mind even wearier.

 

\\\\\\*///

 

_ Her old saggy hiking bag contained little but a few changes of clothes and one pair of boots. She didn’t have much anyway and although the bag wasn’t exactly light, the scarcity of her possessions drove her on. She didn’t turn back once because doing so would mean that she still wanted to stay. And maybe she did want to stay, she hadn’t lost all hope afterall. She thought about the possibilities, all of it, but continued walking nonetheless. Her feet had their own rhythm, desires, and wouldn’t stop or slow down. She knew that even if a tiny part of her regretted this, she would never be able to convince them to carry her back. Home would be foreign to them, and she didn’t blame them because home never felt like home in the first place. Still, her attachment to the house urged her to think of one reason—she simply needed just one—to turn back around. But with everything that she tried to come up with, she received a hard counter-thought that burned and chopped the reliability of the other by mere reality. She found herself halfway out of the little town she knew ever since she took her first breath. She remembered the playground, the schools, the stores, and everything along the quiet streets. She really wanted to stay, really. But harsh reality stood in the way, as it always does, and she only sped up her pace on the gritty sidewalk. _

 

_ She was surprised how quickly her feet came to a halt at the bridge. The evening sunlight morphed its towering steel columns into a heavenly golden color instead of its original rusty red. She stopped not because she wanted to, but because she had to. Beyond this point, if she crossed the other side, she would be entering the city. The muscles in her neck tensed, but she pushed herself to turn around one last time. Then, she tried to convince herself again, knowing that nothing would work but a little too afraid to actually leave. Everything was unknown to her on the other side. Yet, the only hope she had was on the other side. She would never get it here. She closed her eyes when a gentle breeze brushed past, blowing across her face and somewhat tempting her to continue to the other side. The town looked so still from this side of its border. It looked pleasant, happy, despite the fact that she never knew any of the words when she was in it. For thirteen years, she never knew that it could look so calming. She knew it was better to go on and place herself in fate’s wheel than go back. She was scared of the unknown, but she was even more terrified of home. She couldn’t even imagine stepping foot back into that house, to the weathered white panelings and creaky porch, to the overgrowing dirty yellow weeds in the yard, and to the mother whom she despised but pitied at the same time. That was enough to make her shiver. _

 

_ But what would happen after she left? Would anyone notice? Perhaps the old lady next door, but she knew for a fact that her mother wouldn’t. She would miss the old lady, and her generous containers of food on days when her mother was absent. She used to cry about a lot. She used to question it and sob as if she had been the reason of her own neglect. But on days when her mother was home, she simply wished that she regretted everything she’d felt days before. It became clear that her mother’s favorite pastime was not her but a bottle of whiskey. She’d tried asking her pitiful mother about the whereabouts of her father, a real feat on her part she had to admit. Her mother had stared at her long and hard through gray pale eyes that seemed just as unpolished as their dusty television cabinet. _

 

_ “He’s in the river if you want to visit him.” Her mother would chuckle. _

 

_ It then got chilly in the house, and she believed it was from those words, not the temperature outside. She would miss all of it, surely, both the bad and good. Turning back would be a foolish choice, and she rather take the risk than never be able to take another one. She turned around and strutted with forced confidence as her heart balanced to not fall out with every step. She was going to be ok. This was going to be ok. She stepped onto the other side and attempted to straighten her spine for good posture. There was a gray van parked on the street a few feet away from her. She approached it steadily. When she reached the driver’s door, the window was rolled down and a smile beamed down at her. _

 

_ “Hop in, kid.” Chou Tzuyu beckoned her to the other side. _

 

_ The van was empty except for the two of them. They were exiting the outskirts and going into the shadows of gray, stone buildings ahead. _

 

_ “Are you allowed to drive?” _

 

_ Tzuyu smiled again, warm and pleasant. “No, but don’t worry. I won’t get us arrested.” _

 

_ “I hope not” There was another wide curve at the tips of the older’s lips, and she didn’t know what it is that was so amusing. _

 

_ “You’ll make a great addition, Momo.” _

 

\\\\\\*///


	4. Chapter 4

The routine continued. It seemed like nothing stopped and waited anymore. The gang ran into some really nasty situation, and Momo was summoned at the break of dawn for an emergency meeting. She made sure to check over Sana before she left, of course, but was courteous enough to do it quietly. For some reason, Sana looked really peaceful under the sunrise shining through from the window. Momo almost wished she didn’t have to do this. But then again, she didn’t like the thought of Sana being handed over to their henchmen instead.

 

It was raining when Momo got outside. She didn’t bring an umbrella, and she couldn’t remember the last time she did. Pulling on her hoodie, she strutted outside into the early morning air. It was only a light drizzle anyway. This was calming enough. Momo always found the rain refreshing. The streets were empty and checking her phone, which was thankfully waterproof, it was only five forty in the morning. Tzuyu must’ve had a pretty good reason for calling them up like this. She didn’t know the exact details of the problem because their leader was cautious to never spill anything important unless they were in the same room. Nevertheless, Momo didn’t mind waking up ridiculously early today. She got some peace and quiet walking in an orange-coated city with a bit of light rain to clear her head. It was enjoyable enough, considering the things she was preparing to hear. A cooling calm before the storm, she concluded. Besides, she didn’t have a rather pleasant sleep last night anyway.

 

Momo reached the Temptation in about twenty minutes on foot. The club was obviously closed, but something up ahead caught Momo’s attention. She narrowed her eyes, making out a black van parked near the headquarters. Tzuyu had arrived already, it seemed. She should hurry up unless she wanted to keep their leader waiting. A man was leaning on the door of the club when she finally came up the block. He had a cigarette in his mouth and blew a brief cloud of smoke when he spotted her watchful eyes. Momo retained a frown, a typical expression of authority the elites usually displayed to their henchmen. He wasn’t new—Momo remembered taking him to some mission with her, something that had to do with a drug lord—and seemed to recognize the approaching elite as he moved out to open the door for her. There was a meek smile on his face. A hidden smirk or a small token of respect, Momo didn’t care enough to figure out.

 

There were about four guards or so laying about inside the club. They only glanced at her as she passed, idle and quite passive. Momo wasn’t actually sure if they knew what they were doing here, but Tzuyu would certainly be informative to fill them with a sense of purpose. Keeping morale was what their leader always did best, after all. Momo was about to descend the stairs down to the meeting room undisrupted until she spotted something that just irritated her to the bones. It pricked her eyes to look at the way one of the guards was leaning against the aquarium in the corner. His arm looked like it would fall right into the water any minute and judging by his half-opened eyes, he was either high or sleepy. Whatever it might be, he shouldn’t be in either state on duty. She approached him, at first gently then deliberately stomping her feet to get him to hear the footsteps. He perked up his neck a little, soon his entire body in a slow, sluggish motion. He groaned softly, anticipating her frown with a docile stare.

 

“Keep leaning a little to the left and maybe you’ll fall right in.” Another guard from the other side of the room overheard and chuckled. When Momo turned around with a rebuking glare, he didn’t dare make another sound.

 

“Sorry, I’m—” The sleepy guard muttered.

 

“You’re on duty.” She reminded, hard and low.

 

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, still drowsy but much more alive than before. “I didn’t have much sleep.”

 

“Well, now isn’t exactly the time. You know the consequences of sleeping on duty, yes?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

With a satisfied nod, Momo resumed her walk and went down into the basement.

 

**~~~***~~~**

 

Their problem appeared to be concerning a group of deserters. The small crew had been causing a large racket, especially with the police. They sent Dahyun a voicemail threatening the elites and demanding a hefty sum of money, otherwise they would leak crucial information about the gang to the police. Tzuyu was certainly not very scared of their intentions. She even admitted to snickering when she first heard the voicemail. The group would not be a threat for long if they handled this correctly. And to ensure their success, Tzuyu had ordered for more security around their bases along with a temporary lockdown on their databases with Dahyun being the only exception. As for the traitors, they would be hunted down accordingly before they could utter another word. Speed would play an important factor in their success, Tzuyu had noted after assembling a large search team to catch the renegades dead or alive. Momo, who was usually the one to lead these armed scouts, was excused and her role was passed to Mina instead.

 

“You have something important to handle at home, Hirai. Quite literally, yes?” Their leader had said. Momo only nodded. She could just tell by looking in Tzuyu’s eyes that she should start producing results fast.

 

Without a part to play, Momo was allowed to go home early while the others stayed for further planning. She got home at around noon, checking up on Sana, and made them both lunch. While eating, she gathered up her thoughts in order to figure out what to do with the girl sitting across from her. Sana, on the other hand, noticed that her captor was more aloof than usual. She knew that Momo wouldn’t appreciate her disrupting right now but under some impulse, Sana decided to do it anyway.

 

“I’m done.” The hostage cleared her throat.

 

Momo didn’t reply, only turned to glance once at Sana, and then back into her daze from before. The hostage suddenly found herself with a chance. Her captor was distracted. She could make a move. Sana scanned around the table for anything that might help. There were only spoons and bowls, not even a flower vase since Momo probably didn’t even bother to buy one. The house, now that Sana thought about it, was very scarce. There seemed to be nothing useful in the place that would aid her escape. Challenging Momo with strength alone would be idiotic. Her captor wasn’t just any small criminal. She must have been one of the top dogs in order to own an apartment this size.

 

“Get up.” Sana’s short-lived escape plan was interrupted by a voice. She swung her head around, surprised when she realized that somehow Momo was standing right in front of her. The dishes on the table were cleared off. Her only time comfortably out of the chair for the day was up.

 

Sana rose at her captor’s request and walked back to the chair. Momo followed her, never leading but always trailing behind. It was much safer this way. When the hostage was back in her chair, Momo did nothing except lean on the window sill next to her. She didn’t tie her up, not even looking at her. Sana was growing anxious. The captor was planning something, likely that she _had_ been for the last half hour. It probably wasn’t anything good, considering how long Sana had been in her house with no results. Momo clearly wanted her out of here and whatever she planned must have had something to do with Sana’s disposal. The hostage, anticipating the worst, flinched slightly when Momo reached into her pocket to pull out her phone. Nothing was looking good. Sana might get transferred to someplace else. She’d been through a lot, but Momo was honestly the best kidnapper she’d ever seen. Just the thought of being removed from this roomy apartment to a stinky basement cell made Sana shivered. Her hands turned cold and especially colder when Momo leaned down to look at her. The captor was up to something—there was a spark in her eyes that Sana couldn’t trust. Momo’s eyes narrowed at her almost like they’d seen right through her and detected the irregularity of her heartbeats. Sana was as confused as she was terrified. She had no single feeling about Momo—everything was just a mixture of jumbled up emotions. She truly appreciated Momo’s demeanor for being easy on her but also despised the captor’s apathetic indifference in times like these. It was impossible for Sana to have anything against her—to at least feel motivated to challenge her—because Momo never did _anything_ to provoke those feelings. It was terribly frustrating.

 

“Listen up.” Momo ordered in a quiet tone. There was never the need to talk loudly in this vast apartment. “When I signal for you to talk, you will. You will make any desperate noise you can. You will act like one of your legs just got chopped off, understand?”

 

The hostage, slowly snapping back into the situation, cocked her head. “Why?”

 

A bad response—totally very inappropriate to say _right_ after being ordered. Momo cooly glanced back at her phone and growled. “Because if you don’t, one of your legs _will_ get chopped off.”

 

That was both a warning and a cue to shut up. Sana had no choice but to comply. It seemed like Momo had dialed a number because there was a ringing echoing across the room. The call was on loudspeaker and Sana was supposed to play a part in it. This couldn’t be a transfer, unless Momo just wanted to scare her or something. But why? It didn’t make a lot of sense. The hostage had other predictions but hoped this wasn’t any of those either.

 

“Hello?” A man’s voice emerged after the ringing ceased, deep and raspy.

 

Sana shifted in her chair and Momo noticed. The hostage’s eyes widened, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the seat she was on.

 

“Mr. Minatozaki?” Momo calmly continued. Meanwhile, Sana’s eyes were darkening into a grim charcoal that not even the midday’s sunlight could dissolve.

 

“Who is this? If you wish to schedule an appointment, you would need to contact the reception first. I don’t accept clients on my cell.”

 

“Oh there is no need, sir. I don’t think you would want me to waste time on that.”

 

“Who _are_ you?”

 

“I’m sure you’re familiar with Chou Tzuyu? I’m one of her subordinates.”

 

“Chou Tzu—ah…” His voice trailed off into a knowing sigh. “I thought I’d changed my number already.”

 

“We have our methods. Now—”

 

“I thought our deals were settled a long time ago.”

 

“Not the most recent one, no. We attempted to send you several warnings, Mr. Minatozaki but the money won’t pay itself.”

 

“I don’t have the money.”

 

“Your daughter has been captured.” Momo affirmed. Sana was stiff. Just hearing the word irritated her. It was meaningless. Always had been to her and always would be no matter its delivery. This was something she’d grown to tolerate ever since she was a child.

 

Her father took a short pause before chuckling. “I don’t have one.”

 

Sana swallowed a lump in her throat, knowing well that it was one of many to come. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this. She’d already warned Momo beforehand that calling the bastard was absolutely useless. But the captor probably didn’t trust her, which was understandable enough.

 

“Sir, your daughter, Minatozaki Sana, had been abducted and will be dealt with accordingly if you—”

 

“I _do not_ have one.”

 

A flush of red was rushing to Momo’s face. She looked pissed enough. “She’s going to speak to you now.”

 

The phone was shoved in front of Sana’s face. The hostage didn’t dare to breathe, not to mention talk. She should do what she was told, but she hated this. Every single time. He would deny it and hang up, leaving her to either escape on her own or rot. She didn’t understand. It infuriated her that _they_ didn’t understand. This stupid back and forth—it never worked and would never work. She didn’t understand why they would _constantly_ drag her into it, when he _never_ gave a _shit_ about her involvement to begin with. Take another millionaire who actually _cared_ about his child and maybe the results would turn out different. Take some other millionaire who wouldn’t just exile his only offspring to a crime-filled city, left on her own despite owning a large business, and provided nothing but a few bills for a bag of grocery. She didn’t need official words to know that she was totally disowned. With all the years-built resentment of her neglect clouding up her mind, Sana ignored Momo’s urging glare completely. She wouldn’t speak, refused to speak, and would rather die than fall back into this cycle of absolute bullshit. It was just _so_ unfair. Her whole life continuously being affected and toppled by the coward of a father she never saw for fifteen years.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Well, one of our henchmen have accidentally knocked her unconscious. Pay back within two weeks if you want to avoid a direct interference with your business, Mr. Minatozaki.” Momo hung up immediately at the last word. It must have been pretty humiliating.

 

Momo didn’t look too content sliding her phone back into her pocket. Sana didn’t really care. She was busy fuming in her own fire in the seat, still gripping it intensely enough that she lost all feeling in her hands. Perhaps she should have paid more attention, especially after the failed call, because Sana was oblivious when Momo moved closer again. The hostage felt a brief gush of wind swinging past her ears before a sharp pain swept across her face. Her back crashed into the spine of the chair, rattling and shaking under the force. One side of her face throbbed and she quickly realized what had happened. Sana opened her eyes to Momo glowering down at her, a volcano erupting in the captor’s eyes. One of Momo’s hands was open while the other was rolled up into a fist. Sana wondered which had impacted her face. Not that it mattered—she was just curious.

 

“I told you to speak!” For the first time, the eerie silence of the apartment was broken. Momo’s voice, booming in clear rage, echoed across every wall within the room and back to ring in the hostage’s ears. Sana felt like she’d been hit a second time.

 

“I told you before. It won’t work.” Something was daring her. She was feeling invincible under both the shock and anger of it all. Her tone cut through the room, equally mirroring the same intensity as Momo’s.

 

“Because you didn’t fucking cooperate!” The captor snarled and locked her into the chair with one hand on her throat.

 

Sana felt everything but fear. “And you thought _he_ would?”

 

“But you didn’t do _anything_!”

 

“And why would that _matter_?! Why would I matter?!” Momo, a little shocked from hearing Sana raised her voice, pressed her fingers a little harder against her neck. But Sana’s blood was boiling, thickening with resentment and if she couldn’t feel her own beating heart, she sure as hell didn’t feel the suffocating pain. “How many times do you people have to do this until it opens your eyes?!”

 

“Be. Quiet.” A hard threat yet it bounced off Sana’s ears like a dead fish.

 

She didn’t know why her life was so valuable when it had been clear so many times that it was not. Was it not obvious enough with the amount of times she’d been captured? If he cared so much, wouldn’t she be provided with more security? She wasn’t upset because of the fact that she wasn’t worthy. She didn’t care that she could have been heir to a large company and reveling in everything she didn’t have now. She had overcome all those lingering disappointments a long time ago. She accepted her fate. She succumbed to being unwanted—she allowed herself to be seen as a burden. But even through all that, it seemed that she could never lose enough. All she simply wished now for was peace. If she couldn’t live the life she was promised, can she at least _live_ ? A normal life was honestly everything she’d ever hoped for at this point. And she was _so_ close to that life once upon a time, so close to moving away with her mother to dwell in another city. It seemed like a perfect, spotless plan. They were going out for the better and getting the treatment her mother deserved. The treatment for her lungs that seemed nonexistent to the _fucker_ that had abandoned them. Sana remembered feeling so ready. She remembered wearing her best clothes. She remembering basking in that temporary bliss—the soft, secured blanket of hope. But human life was fragile, somehow she’d forgotten that in the middle of the preparations for their big move. The coughing wouldn’t stop. Her mother couldn’t fight anymore. Sana’d forgotten that time wouldn’t stop ticking either. Happiness seemed like the only thing that could be washed away, a precious pearl vanishing from the shore under the pressure of ocean tides. What she ended up remembering most clearly was not the excitement of the move, but everything that came after it. The walls collapsing and tumbling down onto her all at once. She didn’t have the heart to move to the new city. The contract for the apartment was canceled. Her life continued in a wheeling cycle of bad mistakes.

 

“I’m not your spoiled, beloved, mellow _princess_ .” Sana’s voice grew weak, mainly from the stress her body had felt all day but she blamed it solely on the memories trickling in. Her eyes stung but she did nothing to regain her furious momentum. She was exhausted of fighting. “ _I’m not who you think I am._ ”

 

There was a sudden tremor in Momo’s hand as the captor released her grip. Sana didn’t bother to look at her. She slung back into the chair, sniffling under messy hair clouding around her face. Momo stepped back not because she felt bad, but because she _knew_ . It scared her how much her body had involuntarily absorbed in all the broken shards that hung around Sana—something too conjoined to her own that it weakened her as well. And no, she didn’t feel bad about what she just did. It was her job. How could she _not_ have done it? She just wished she didn’t have to keep doing it. And just like that, their confrontation came to a crushing conclusion. The silence didn’t return as it was still very much disrupted. Replacing the angry voices was Sana softly crying on her chair, and Momo letting it all sink in from her spot on the sofa. Just two fractured souls, both so sick of themselves and everything that surrounded them.

 

An hour passed by and Momo discovered that Sana had fallen asleep on the spot. The captor stood up slowly from her position. Her back was sore despite the softness of the couch. She sauntered towards Sana, feet barely lifting off the floor. She didn’t realize how much this had taken its toll on her, but her muscles felt like jelly. Had it been a physical clash, she wouldn’t have felt this badly. Besides she had all sorts of those before, nearly every day considering her responsibilities. But this, oh this was a battle she hadn’t fought in years. There was never the need to resort to them before, not when she could just use her fists. Sana was really different. Maybe it was because of her own lack of experience in keeping hostages, but Momo felt like she had been defeated five times over. She accomplished nothing. It was strange, but she felt like she’d somehow pulled the keystone out of an arch. Their usual silence, Sana’s typical agreeable nature—everything was now disturbed. Plus, this was _stupidly_ draining for absolutely no reason. Now not only would they not get the money, but she might have lost her only chance to convince Sana’s father. As for the daughter herself, Momo couldn’t really do anything with her yet. She refused to keep wrecking the hostage until she knew how to stop being affected also. And all Sana did was cry, jeez Momo had killed plenty of people in their worst moments. Just not this time.

 

Momo tried her hardest to tie Sana’s hands and feet back together without interfering her sleep. Sana looked pretty worn out. Her breathing was sharp and extensive. Studying the hostage in this vulnerable state, Momo wondered if Sana knew how exposed she was. The captor could reach up right now and literally snap her neck. Then again, it was unlikely that Sana would care at this point. And no matter how much Momo denied it, the thought alone was leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She had no problem with brutality but this, she wouldn’t want to live with it. It felt like she would betray something so inherently personal that her mind simply rejected. However, she knew at some point soon she would have to do it. She would have to decide between living with it, or face Tzuyu’s judgment and not live at all.

 

Momo was halfway through encircling Sana with the third set of rope before something made her let go. She stared at the rough string and pondered if it was really necessary tonight. Then again, she couldn’t take any chances. Could she? Sana didn’t look like she would wake up soon. Reluctantly, Momo decided to strip off the third rope and tossed it onto the dining table. Sana wouldn’t get far anyway with tied up hands and feet. No, she would be too weary. Even if she tried, the act wouldn’t be very quiet. A big gamble but the captor chose to take it anyway. She left Sana with some mild regrets and fixed herself a shower to escape the stuffy room. When she got out, it was apparent that the steamy hot water had somehow softened her—physically and mentally. Just staring at Sana leaning like that on the chair stirred something in Momo. She might as well taken a large gamble. With much-concentrated caution, she managed to lift the hostage bridal style from the chair to the couch. Not surprisingly, Sana was still fast asleep. Momo went into her bedroom and shuffled around until she found a reasonable blanket in the back of her closet. She headed out, coated it softly on top of Sana, then returned to sit on her bed in deeper contemplation than ever. God, she hated herself.

 

She really, _really_ hated herself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got kinda depressing…I’m really sorry :(  
> Anyway thank you for those who had been patiently waiting!  
> I might have to push back on updating for a bit, because my wolf au is coming to an end and I need to spend more time wrapping that up  
> Stay is obviously not as big (nor as long) but I’m glad that you guys found it a worthwhile read  
> I’ll return as soon as possible! <3


	5. Chapter 5

Momo ended up staying awake the entire night.

  
She didn’t remember how she managed to forget about the time but when she reached for her phone, it was already six thirty in the morning. For a moment, she couldn’t fully believe it, for her hazy mind originally registered that only two hours had passed. Confused and distorted, Momo fumbled her way out of bed in a great effort. Her back felt ridiculously twisted, but then she remembered that she had, indeed, been _twisting_ all night. The room was concealed in complete darkness. Only a small resemblance of light appeared through the closed curtains, to which Momo glanced absently at and strutted out the room.

 

The rest of her apartment complex was drowned in a glorious golden glow of the morning sunrise. The light had caught Momo’s eyes in their most vulnerable state, causing her to squint irritably all around. Once she recovered, her attention was averted immediately to search for Sana. The hostage was sleeping soundly on the couch, snuggling close to the blanket, and breathing with total tranquility. In the open light, her sharp features became extremely defined and amplified. She was like a painting, an important artful demonstration captured in stillness. Momo didn’t realize that she had been staring until Sana stirred, breaking that motionless beauty of hers and appearing so natural underneath the blanket that hid her constricted limbs. The scene convinced Momo that if they weren’t under the current circumstances, she would have been very attracted to Sana. But at present, it was a morbid thought which provoked a slight shiver out of her.

 

Momo washed her face in the bathroom and made herself presentable for the approaching day. The exhaustion and perturbation, however, refused to remove itself from her face. She sauntered out of the bathroom in despair—the concealed kind, of course, because Hirai Momo could never be caught alive visibly upset—and decided to fix herself some coffee. Not once did she turn around to look at Sana again. Instead, she allowed the roaring of the gray coffee machine to occupy her mind completely. When its movements halted, she shifted her focus and attention to the black liquid now steadily pouring into the mug. The sharp smell entered her nostrils and she let it take her away.

 

Momo waited courteously for the machine to empty its content before wrapping her hand around the mug’s handle, transferring the coffee to the counter and switching off the coffee maker. With a brief pause, she remembered that there was no milk in the fridge. In fact, she didn’t remember when she _did_ have milk in the fridge. But today, she decided to not contaminate the pure coffee—even with a teaspoon of sugar—and blew into the mug before raising it to her lips. The first sip calmed her nerves a little. The second sip made her skeptical. As warm bitterness pounded her tongue in robust intensity, she closed her eyes, trying to gather some sense of peace for the first time in a long while. She leaned her back on the edge of the counter, drawing back into herself and hopping on another solemn train of thought.

 

It was hard to believe that a simple undertaking had taken such a toll on her well-being. Momo didn’t understand what was so hard about it, especially with Sana’s unproblematic calmness. She couldn’t comprehend how she was struggling—not physically but rather a totally new type of struggle—over a very direct agenda. With the third and most generous sip of her coffee, she came to realize that she’d actually _forgotten_ how to struggle like this. Many years ago, she made a statement to the world. With her back turned away from a decaying town—her first display of personal authority ever—she’d chosen to cross the bridge and into the safety of Tzuyu’s car. Since then, she had sworn a silent oath against feelings, rendering herself unable to be sensitive or caring or any other nonsense of the sort. She liked to believe nothing could corrode her highly defensive walls, but that confidence had led her to forget something vital.

 

Sana was a new kind of danger.

 

Momo could take brute strength and fierce bloodshed but none of that was Sana. Every part of the hostage was utterly unpredictable from arrival to behavior. Her tactics were quite abnormal, playing by emotional pressures, which probably wouldn’t work with anyone else but managed to hit Momo like a deer in the headlights. By simply not resisting or doing _anything_ , she’d managed to overwhelm Momo to a scary record-breaking extent. Somehow, Sana had demanded, forced, and pushed every single one of her buttons without acting out even once. Momo wasn’t just frustrated because she was battling with what she hated most, she also had no idea how to counter it. Forcing Sana into submission, even in that moment of heated tension, had felt dreadful and unjustified. Momo had _never_ felt so awful about hitting someone before. Her whole motto was to not care and never be too involved in anything. Even in the gang’s business, she did her part and gave what Tzuyu demanded simply because she owed her. Detachment was how she got by. It’d saved her and she was keen on saving it.

 

Sana was beginning to stir from her slumber. The hostage opened her eyes, greeting the morning with a modest yawn before something urged her to glance towards the kitchen area. She blinked expressionlessly at her captor. With a near-empty cup in her hand, Momo stood her ground and returned the stare. She made sure that the intensity of her eyes surpassed Sana’s to reduce the chances of her suppressed nervousness being uncovered. But as always, her defenses still managed to waver slightly underneath the coolness of her hostage’s expression. Sana looked at Momo plainly as if nothing had happened the night before. She was completely unbothered, seemingly forgotten somehow, that the person in front of her had landed a harsh hand across her face just hours ago. Although unsettled by the visible blankness in Sana’s eyes, Momo finished up her drink and sent it to the sink. A part of her wanted to be pleased that her hostage had no intention of bringing the unpleasant incident up, but another part of her was very disturbed by that absence. Nevertheless, she relinquished to the most favorable emotion of the situation and ignore the latter thought.

 

Momo accepted the silent barrier between them but she was eager to leave. She reached into her pockets for her phone and scrolled through several text messages. It appeared that she was requested to supervise a group of henchmen on their way to demand a loan. According to Nayeon’s judgement, the group of roughnecks that had been assigned didn’t have the best of experience to handle it alone, thus a wiser elite needed to come with them. No time was specified in the message except a simple, “your team should be at headquarters by midday”. It was no matter to Momo. With the day outlined in her head, she went into the bedroom and properly got dressed. When she returned, she saw that Sana’s complexion had drastically changed. It seemed that some new consciousness had hit her while Momo was away. Sana’s entire focus was fixed on the blanket surrounding her lap. She didn’t look upset or bewildered at all. In fact, there seemed to be a tenderness in her eyes, a secret longing as her lips meekly curled up in a half-smile. It didn’t fade when Momo came close to her and that gave the captor serious goosebumps. Sana was let out for her morning bathroom break, then tied back to her chair properly this time with no comfortable blanket or loose knots. Momo felt that there was a shift somewhere in their relations, perhaps more bad than good but decided that it shouldn’t matter anyhow. She really, _really_ needed to go.

 

**~** **~** **~** ***** ***** ***** **~** **~** **~**

 

This was certainly not the first time—and probably not the last for a while—that Momo had seen the city at its freshest moment. A light coating of yellow painted across the sky, reflecting across the tall glass windows of skyscrapers and further illuminating the beauty of dawn for witnesses below. Speckles of gold, accompanied by soft shadows, decorated the sidewalks and asphalt roads which winded through every corner of the city. The skyline was vibrating with a splendid honey-colored outburst. A stray, blinding sunray managed to strike the car’s left mirror, directing a discomforting glare towards Momo’s eyes and causing her to consider an escape. So when she found the chance, she rounded a corner where such light would be hidden against the strong shield of tall adjacent brick buildings. In mind, she consciously had a very transparent idea of where she wanted to be—where she _needed_ to be, rather—but her restless hand on the steering wheel seemed to disagree. The headquarters was half a mile behind her and she was fully aware of that. Yet, her foot remained on the gas pedal, her hands continued to direct the vehicle to some other part of the city, and her eyes keenly looked ahead on the road that she barely knew.

 

Momo, utilizing her elite’s privileges, had never been up before the sun _ever_. She didn’t even remember the last time she saw the sunrise, not to mention being out and basking in it. But there she was, parking her car on a barren road nestled above a cliff top overlooking the ocean. The contrast of yellow and blue on the horizon captivated her. She let go of her dying grip on the wheel and got out of the vehicle. Seagulls and albatrosses screeched overhead, catching the salty gales with their massive wings and mingling with each other through playful glides. Momo sat on the hood of her car, tucking cold hands into her jacket. The serenity reached her for a few minutes. Then, a pesky memory of the task she had to carry out today overtook that calmness and shooed her back into the driver seat. She turned on the engine with much reluctance, eyes still searching for the glistering of the tides from the obscure dark glass of her car window. Eventually, she gave up trying to feel better and turned her car dejectedly back towards the city.

 

Her arrival at the headquarters was predictably early. It was only eight forty in the morning. Momo entered a ghost town of a club. Music still beat vigorously in the background, however, the song playing was slightly softer than the usual on their playlist. The latest news, currently about the weather, were shown on the large flat screen TV hanging above the room. Behind the bar was a young bartender that Momo had never seen before but couldn’t care less about. With their club opening 24/7, it was typical for the staffs to rotate and divide shifts among themselves. She passed him without a second thought, beelining for one of the sofas in the back of the room. The soft surface embraced her immediately. The music and enthusiastic chatting of news reporters quickly turned to muffled white noises. Momo was far away from them now and under the soporific spell of the rather warm space, she was drifting even further away from consciousness. Her eyelids felt heavy, burdened with the weight of the last night’s endeavor, and she crossed her arms, leaning closer into the cushion behind. Like the sudden shattering of a lightbulb, Momo crashed off to sleep.

**~** **~** **~** ***** ***** ***** **~** **~** **~**

 

By noon, a series of bustling commotion had invaded every corner of the once barren club. Momo opened her eyes to witness an energetic assembly establishing on the other side of the room. There were angry cries and excited howls from the pool tables. Participating in one of the matches were her own close mates, Jeongyeon and Mina, both taking careful estimates of their hits. The latter, however, appeared to be more successful with her adroit precision but then again, Jeongyeon’s focus was so fixed on Mina’s face that she might have forgotten about the game entirely. A little away from that area, the bar was overflowing with the sound of clinking glass and gossip. The bartender from earlier had long left his post and replacing him was two older, jollier fellows with bright eyes and an impressive enthusiasm to work fast. Momo found herself quite mesmerized by their shakes and tosses that she held her attention there for a whole three minutes. She didn’t recall her original assignment until Nayeon appeared and blocked out her line of vision.

 

“There you are,” the older acknowledged. “I’ve been scouting all over for you.”

 

“Have you?” Momo stretched lazily and rose to her feet with a groan.

 

“Were you here earlier?”

 

“Super early. Around eight, I think.”

 

“You’re lying,” Nayeon snorted in disbelief.

 

Momo ran a dismissive hand over her hair. “No, really. Then, I took a nap.”

 

“Wow, I didn’t know you were _that_ eager to go collect debt.”

 

“Yes, very.” Momo nodded sarcastically but remembering that she wasn’t supposed to go alone, she looked around for the assigned henchmen. “Where’s my team?”

 

“They should be waiting outside in the garage. You took your car, right?”

 

“Yeah. I’m going now.”

 

Nayeon didn’t seem to hear her for she was still standing there, blocking the way and staring curiously at Momo. There was a tenderness in her eyes, a pleasant touch of concern that washed over Momo, reminding her of some distant time in the past. And while the younger was never a big fan of the past, she couldn’t help but go along with the recollection in her mind. The gang was young then, Momo was even younger, and Nayeon’s habit of caring a little too much about people was starting to become very attractive. Momo was her first admirer, naturally, because she was affectionately deprived and Nayeon seemed to possess all the affection in the world. Whenever Momo stumbled, Nayeon would be there to hold her up. Whenever Momo doubted, Nayeon would be there to assure her. It was hard not to like the older. Despite the strong pull, Momo never really dedicated herself to like Nayeon enough. She saw the pitfalls in it before she could even begin. Nayeon’s compassion could not be reserved or confined. It was meant to spread because that made it special—the fact that it could extend infinitely to reach all kinds of people without hesitation. Like a fish in the mud, it slipped from her grasp before she could learn to love it. And after the attraction faded, Momo wasn’t too upset about it either.

 

After a short silence, the older grabbed her arm. “You’re doing ok?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Call me if you ever need anything,” Nayeon reminded, though it sounded more like a genuine suggestion.

 

“I’ll manage,” Momo assured her. It sounded very uncertain but perhaps Nayeon was already expecting that.

 

She walked out hurriedly, rallying the three underlings before heading to her car. While exiting the garage, she caught a glimpse of Tzuyu’s car from the corner of her eyes. She recognized it first by the obnoxious black shine of the hood, then by the neat attire of the chauffeur who stepped out from the driver seat. She didn’t need to keep looking to know that he was opening the door for Jihyo.

 

**~** **~** **~** ***** ***** ***** **~** **~** **~**

 

Momo found the whole situation so remarkably sad.

 

Looking around the cramped apartment, Momo judged that nothing was left undestroyed. Every vase had been shattered, every mirror smashed, every cabinet emptied, every wall piece thrown, every table upturned, every curtain ripped, every plant crushed—everything and simply _everything_ , including the people of that household, had been demolished. She frowned at the mess of broken glass and wooden splinters on the floor, then at the visible tragedy expressed through the human hysteria next to it. They were side by side each other—one had already been completely ruined and Momo wondered how much more the other could take before they too followed the wreckage. The family of three were all on their knees. The mother was sobbing uncontrollably. The father’s eyes were red but he kept quiet, patting his young toddler on the back while she withdrew to the protection of his arms. All around them, the noises of the invasion grew more consistent and soon overpowered their desperate, timorous heartbeats. They tried to keep their head low, not as a sign of submission but to ignore the hurricane that had swept in and was now rummaging determinedly through everything they owned. With every creak of the bedroom drawers, followed by a loud thud whenever nothing useful was found, the mother would jolt violently before sinking lower to cry again. There was nothing else she could do but cry. Because with everything so quickly stripped and damaged, what else was still left in her control but raw emotions?

 

Momo crossed her arms authoritatively. She looked at them with cold, hard eyes. Another day of work, that was all this meant to her. They tore up many families like this one wherever and whenever the business of backstreet loaning saw fit. This family had received many warnings prior because the gang was always very courteous about reminding their clients after every missed deadline. They knew it was going to happen. But what they never expected was the impact of it on themselves, the careless, hopeless, bitter cruelty of dealing with the longest surviving and most prominent gang in the city. As the hurricane came, they didn’t expect it to ravage absolutely _everything_ through sheer ferocity and incredible speed. While the mother seemed to recognize this with each sob, the father was just starting to become aware that his entire life worth had just slithered away. As a metaphorical anvil fell upon his head for a minute, he began trembling under the pressure before releasing the child from his unsteady hands. And at this point, abandoned from all comfort of her parents’ security, the child stood up with great alarm. She looked from one parent to the next through teary eyes, finally settling for her mother who appeared a little more animated than the frozen statue that her father had morphed into.

 

“What’s happening, mommy??!” The toddler wept harder when no response was given even with an urgent shake of the older woman’s shoulder.

 

It took another minute of combined sobbing and rustling in the bedroom closet before the mother could sense her child’s frightened impatience. “It’s for you…”

 

Something immediately constricted and snapped in the air. The toddler shuffled slightly further away from her mother. “What?”

 

“This is for you!” Wiping her tears away from her cheeks, the woman sprung up and stared rigidly at her daughter.

 

The child staggered back with widening eyes. “What??”

 

“I did this for you! I did it for you to go to school! You!” Her mother’s voice dropped a tremendous tenor, her eyes narrowed like darts, and a single piercing finger shot out to aim at the confused child.

 

“Mommy!!”

 

“You made me do this!”

 

A frantic mixture of terror and anxiety gripped at the daughter’s voice as she defended herself through a meek whimper. “I didn’t do anything!”

 

“You! You did this! You did!” The mother’s eyes darkened a pupilless black as she lunged forward to snatch the tiny shoulders, gripping them with her fingers like talons and shaking them so hard that the toddler’s crying turned into panicked spluttering. “You’ve brought them here!!”

 

In a split second, the small, fragile body was swung back until a half-broken chair halted it from going further into the wreckage. The child slumped back, covered her ears with her hands, closed her eyes, and broke into loud wails. She was definitely not crying in pain. Momo didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone cry that hard before, nor had she ever seen a person look so genuinely _guilty_. The toddler hiccuped sporadically for a moment, then was hit with an abrupt curiosity as she reached out for a torn dog plush amidst the ruined mess. She caressed it tenderly before tucking in the stuffing which dangled depressingly on every side of the toy. Then, she lowered herself sideways on a section of the floor covered with bumpy spines of recently tossed books. She hugged the dog closed, patting its severely ripped back and continued weeping.

 

“It’s all your fault!” The mother screeched and it physically _pierced_ the child who shoved the dog even closer to her chest as if it was the only bandage for her wound.

 

Momo’s crossed arms loosened without her command. Her hands turned into firm fists as she stood there, enduring the cries, and _soaking_ in the colossal devastation of this household. She could take the aftermath of a brawl and a bloodbath but not this.

 

“Hey, boss. Look what we’ve found.” A delighted chuckle echoed from the bedroom and following it was the tall figure of a henchman stooping in the doorframe.

 

He beamed at Momo, proudly presenting an opened wooden box in his hand. From afar, the elite could make out a collection of sparkling jewels and pearl necklaces. She stiffened, nodded, and cleared her throat. “Good. Take the whole thing.”

 

With a genuinely drained exhale, Momo turned to the disorderly family. “If it doesn’t add up to the amount owed, we will be back.”

 

None of them looked at her. She wasn’t even sure if anyone actually heard her. What she was sure of was that it would take more to fix the _mental_ state of this household than the broken furniture. Nevertheless, she forced herself towards the front door and retreated from the catastrophe behind her.

 

At the very least, she was courteous enough to close the door after herself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the delay, I have no intention to give up on this fic  
> Thx u for all who waited, yall r the best  
> It took a depressing turn, didn’t it?  
> But it’s a little preparation for the next chap ;)


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